The Noob Games
by JGrayzz
Summary: The Games like you have never seen them before; consists of tributes with comical and exaggerated qualities. A satirical take on the Hunger Games universe. Guaranteed to make you chuckle.
1. The Announcement

**The Noob Games**

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**Chapter I **

**"The Announcement"**

* * *

President Poobah slowly and steadily walked toward the microphone, while thousands of cameras flashed off in the distance like twinkling stars. Everyone is awaiting this year's revelation of what could possibly be, the most exciting Games that ever occurred.

Everyone knew the President was…for lack of a better terms…not right in the head. But the Capitol knows that because of this fact, the President has created some of the most epic Games ever. Last year, tributes were forced to run around in their birthday suits while flaming monkey mutts descended upon them from above.

It ended up becoming the shortest Games in history…not only because of the mutts, but also because of the icy tundra that the Tributes were situated in. The winner of the Games won by luck. Sure, the Games were shorter than usual, but the action was exciting!

Or so the President had said the day afterwards. The winner ended up getting an arm amputated, while his body was stationed permanently in a suit to protect his 3rd degree burns and also to shield his new iron lungs.

The year before was even worse…instead of tributes aged 12-18, all the participants were aged from 3-10. It ended up becoming the most boring and controversial Games in history. The winner didn't even know they won, but was more concerned with trying to defecate as many times as possible before anyone noticed.

There was even a Games where the President _entered himself _into the games; introducing a once in a lifetime District called, "The Capitol". The president entered along with a Head Peacekeeper wearing a dress…despite the fact they were male. Of course, the President won…but only because he ordered instant death upon any tribute who dared even touching him.

Already, the President has proved himself to be an…interesting successor to the cruel and sadistic President Nimbus.

The President coughed and gagged violently as he tried to turn on the microphone. A Peacekeeper attempted to help President Poobah find the large red button to turn it on but was turned away rudely.

"I do not need your help, rat bastard! Can't you see that I was only trying to kill that damned fly?" yelled Poobah.

The Peacekeeper sighed and went back to his post behind the President. Poobah coughed again, sending spit all over the cameramen near the stage. Poobah cleared his throat, which lasted a good several minutes.

By the time he was finished nearly coughing his lungs out, he was leaning on the podium, breathing heavily, slowly, and loudly.

"Alri…Alright! Alright! I…I got this," he gasped, positioning himself neatly and giving a taut wave and a flash of his pearly whites.

"This year, I have taken it upon myself to create a Games none of you will ever rememb-forget! None of you will ever forget! Damn it!" he angrily yelled, his face contorting into tomato colored grimaces.

A man in a suit quickly came up the stage and handed a bottle of pills and some water to the President. Poobah expressed gratitude and practically shoved all the pills down his throat, chugging the water and burping loudly. He wheezed and coughed again, wasting another five minutes of everyone's time.

Poobah brushed himself off and cleared his throat once more. "Anyway! The tributes this year were specially handpicked…by me! Yes…by me! I traveled to each district and lined all the kiddies up, and picked out the ones I liked. All the names in those glass bowls were picked by me! All me!" he bragged, now bouncing up and down around the stage.

Poobah continued to jump around, even after some of the crowd began to leave, realizing that the President wasn't going to stop this time. A thin man in a multicolored suit made his way up the stage and to the microphone.

"Mr. President…Mr-Mr. President," he said, trying to get the goofy and half crazed President under control.

"Mr. President, I'm really happy for you, and I'm going to let you finish. But President Snow was the greatest president of all time-of all time!" the man yelled.

The President immediately stopped his irate antics, and the entire crowd descended into dead silence. The President slowly turned his head towards the man at the podium, keeping his Technicolor eyes open the entire time as his head turned, appearing both intimidating and mysterious.

The President looked back at the audience and then at the man, and then brought his arm up horizontally. He coldly and ever so slowly did a thumbs down gesture, smiling wickedly.

The crowd went wild while a Peacekeeper came and shot the man point blank in the head with a strange looking weapon. It was small and pistol-like, but looked alien, with violet crystals protruding out the top.

The man was dragged off the stage by burly peacekeepers while dozens of cameras flashed.

* * *

A man in a strange and demented looking bunny suit sat Indian style in The Void. He meditated within the gardens, humming to himself and receiving messages of the future and all that is or was.

The Bunny Man sees the reader and appears startled, but calms himself just as quickly. He stands up and clasps his hands in front of him.

"Hello, there. You've clearly caught me off guard. I am the omnipotent Rabbit of the Void. I am here to inform you of some information of the upcoming Tributes that will be participating in the "Noob Games". I will provide a rundown of each character, a short description, their name, and age. Enjoy."

The Bunny Man produced a large clear orb from his hands and stretched it to fit the width of the screen.

**DISTRICT ONE:**

**Bo Solo (17) - **A jovial and fun loving guy who seeks on becoming a fashion model, however this also comes with self idealization. He seems to be too busy trying to keep himself pretty for future photo-shoots than to be roughing it out in the Arena.

**Babby Instain (15) - **A graceful and social girl with a knack for talking-the only problem is, she makes little sense doing so. She's gifted with extreme randomness, and while she has no problem saying what's on her mind, chances are you won't understand a single thing.

**DISTRICT TWO: **

**Gabriel West (17) -** A kid with much more brawns than brain…and doesn't really care anyway. We all know he can take on pretty much anyone, but he likes to flaunt his ego and abilities to the max. He's what you would call a stereotypical "Jock", with endless enthusiasm and over confidence.

**Sophia Carlson (16) - **She's a determined and ambitious girl, with a tall and athletic build suitable for the Arena. If only she wasn't so clumsy. She finds more than one way to break objects, usually expensive ones. Add this to the fact that she knows nothing about combat or weapons, and you've got one mistake for a tribute.

**DISTRICT THREE:**

**Rupert Frye (18) - **This guy's a genius, literally. He's got glasses and a rather thin build; literally the poster child for a typical nerd. Unfortunately, he hates being bothered…no, he loathes it. He gives little time for anyone else but himself or his calculator. He tends to be extremely grumpy and pessimistic, and would rather be sitting down doing his "genius level work". He's kind of a workaholic, so make sure to give him coffee.

**Anne Riddle (16) - **She's a typical inquisitive girl, and would be a genius if she could only remember what had occurred five minutes ago. She's cursed with short-term memory loss, and can't figure why she's being sent off to fight to the death-you can try to tell her, but just be prepared to do so again every five minutes.

**DISTRICT FOUR: **

**Damien Reese (16) - **If hydromania existed, then this guy would have been diagnosed already. His strange obsession for water seems to have gotten to his head over the years, and now is required to be near at least some form of water once a day or will literally convulse like a fish on the ground. That, or he'll go nuts.

**Charlotte Reynolds (17) - **She's a beautiful girl with a body to match, but tends to take this fact to heart. So much so that she's obsessed with herself to the point of self-worship. She tends to carry a mirror around...everywhere. She even talks to her own reflection… Her narcissistic tendencies will likely be her downfall.

**DISTRICT FIVE: **

**August Schroeder (14) - **Please allow me to introduce Captain August, the boy gifted with incredible superpowers and abilities…or so he believes. August is delusional, and cannot accept the fact that he's not a superhero. I'm sure he has powers…he just needs time to develop them, and so he will take all the time in the world…no matter where he is.

**Paige Page (15) - **Along with her ridiculous name and less than intimidating build, comes a personality that…is also ridiculous. She's trapped in her own world, or too trapped in the moment…who knows? All we know is that she's oblivious to the environment, anything that occurs around her means little to her. She sees a hole…and won't walk around it. Well, at least she can say she's fearless.

**DISTRICT SIX:**

**Gerald Luna (15) - **An innocent boy with absolutely no intentions of speaking to anyone. I mean, I'm sure he wants to, but just can't seem to talk normally. His social anxiety renders him unable to share input in plans or discussion. He stutters, sweats, fidgets, and even shakes when he's told something simple as "Hello". I think we know who won't be getting sponsors…

**Leah Summers (16) - **Quite the opposite of her partner, Leah is gifted with the art of movement. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. Her mind flutters from subject to subject and her important goals become irrelevant as she becomes distracted by other curiosities. She can't stop moving either way…so it might just be a tad distracting if you're conversing with her and she's jogging in place, or wandering off to speak to others. Her permanent hyper-ness has made her rather light on her feet however…she could prove difficult to catch.

**DISTRICT SEVEN:**

**Tetsuo "Kung-Pow Nakamura Lee" Kaneda (17) - **Tetsuo…Kaneda, is what you would call your stereotypical and misinformed Asian. He's got the glasses and silky dark hair to match. He's a genius on many levels, but he's speaking a language he knows little about. He does speak "Engrish" however, cannot drive for the life of him, and yells "Gojira" at the least opportune of times.

**Esmerelda Blair (15) -** Throughout her entire life, Esmerelda has gotten out of trouble by lying. Little white lies most of the time, but when the opportunity arises, she will not hesitate to full out lie about the grandest of things. Her lying tendencies are deep seeded, and it is unknown if she can even help it or not.

**DISTRICT EIGHT:**

**Gregory Thorne (16) - **This guy woke up on the wrong side of the cloud, because he cannot seem to shake off the incredibly agitated mood he is in. When you're in his presence, prepare to wear ear plugs, because he shouts every time he opens his mouth. He is in a constant fit of rage and anger, and it's a wonder he hasn't busted a nerve yet. Never ask him why he's yelling or if he's mad either, he'll just get louder.

**Kimberley Wolfe (18) - **Kimberley…is different, or at least she tries to be. It is not quite sure if she received the proper attention as a child or something, but it seems to have made her have a taste for attention. Obsessed with the art of eccentricity, Kimberley is constantly trying to get a reaction out of people by doing wacky and abnormal things. Her voluptuous and feminine figure just makes things more awkward. In addition, despite her District's specialty of thread and clothing, Kimberley does not favor these items.

**DISTRICT NINE:**

**Merlin Manson (17) - **If anyone is weird, it has got to be this guy. He's naturally eccentric, and speaks in a jester's tongue; which consists of metaphors, inside jokes, and nonsensical aphorisms. He's impressionable though, despite his odd behavior. He always finds himself in the most ridiculous of situations. And even if he does spew out riddles and nonsense, he still sounds like a genius.

**Kayla Howard (16) - **Kayla isn't too strange on the inside, but on the outside she's outright crazy. Kayla is preoccupied with keeping things around her neat and orderly, and amidst the chaos that is the Games, she manages to destroy the hordes of pesky bacteria and germs from her "workspace". She is known to carry around disinfectant and Germex. Let's hope she's good at cleaning bloodstains.

**DISTRICT TEN:**

**Maxwell Silverhammer (15) - **Perhaps one of the more…interesting characters this time around. He's paranoid-in the most extreme of cases. Not to mention he is extremely cautious and untrustworthy. Everywhere he goes, he looks behind, up, down, to either side; as if he is about to be assassinated any moment. He believes he is being watched or followed, and even accuses inanimate objects of such abuse. That isn't even the half of it; he also speaks in 3rd person. Yikes.

**Sammie Dawson (16) - **Perhaps one of the more sane-if you can even call her that-tributes of this Games. Perhaps she is normal in the head…unlike other tributes. And she is determined enough to win, knowing full well the idiocy of all her opponents. She is sadistic, villainous, and independent. She commits crime and doesn't feel an ounce of remorse or guilt. She would be a deadly tribute, if not for her horrible bad luck. Her genius traps and plans continuously fail at the most epic of scales…will fate will be on her side during the Games? Only time will tell.

**DISTRICT ELEVEN: **

**Vladimir Molotov (18) - **If you guessed stereotypical Russian, then you're correct! He's every Russian you've ever imagined or seen. He's got the brawns and brains in the higher of levels; he's independent and favors small talk. He drinks a lot, smokes a lot, and loves ze big guns! If you ever need anything to stop moving permanently, he's the guy to go to.

**Heidi O'Connor (16) - **Much less serious than her district partner, Heidi is one of the most bubbly and annoying people you'll ever meet. She is openly enthusiastic about the Games…and everything really, and manages to annoy every tribute with her endless supply of stupid questions. However, her main goal is a rather strange one: She seeks to find living, breathing, Unicorns.

**DISTRICT TWELVE:**

**Jeeroy Lenkins (16) - **It is not quite certain what age and time this boy came from, but we can only assume he's a time traveler. I mean, just look at him. He refers to himself as a "troll", and spews out random albeit hilarious statements which he calls "memes". We don't know where he got information from the past, but I don't think we want to know either. He is cunning, sly, and tricky; and seeks to annoy as many tributes as possible with his ridiculous schemes and "trollish" actions.

**Valentin(a) Mann (17) - **Notice the last name? Yeah, that has nothing to do with the fact that Valentina is actually a Valentin. That's right, this guy is pretending to be a girl so he can visit the Capitol and eat, sleep, eat, party, sleep, eat, party, and eat some more. This girl *cough guy cough* has no intentions of winning…or does he? He wears a towel for a wig, but I guess it's pretty convincing.

The bunny man deflated the bubble of names and sat back down. "Well, it appears our tributes this year have a variety of interesting problems. Of course, nobody knows who will get picked yet except you and I. After all, my existence _is _between you and I!"

The bunny raises his hands and time fades to black…

* * *

**A/N:** I've been interested in doing a story like this for some time now. The idea of a Games consisting of tributes with Noobish qualities and tendencies amused me so much I just had to write my ideas down. So my friends, I give you The Noob Games. It will have an erratic update schedule, which means I will update when I feel like it. I am a professional crastinator after all, so bear with me. These tributes come from my deranged mind, and their names are rather interesting...some of them are based on something while others are completely irrelevant. Anyway, this is meant to be humorous; so please do not take offense to any thing or tell me that this has nothing to do with the Games. Honestly, this story is for comedic effect. While I may add some suspenseful scenes, it will mostly revolve around dark humor. My #1 goal for this story is for you guys to laugh your asses off, so please...enjoy!


	2. District One Reapings

**Chapter II**

**"District One Reapings"**

* * *

**Bo Solo's POV**

* * *

I was awakened by the sound of my annoying mother's voice. She doesn't do this every morning, but today is like, the Reapings or something. I never really cared for that kind of thing enough to pay attention. I mean, really? Apparently it was a big deal and all, but I didn't understand what the big deal was! It's just a bunch of raggedy children stuffed together like anchovies getting picked for the lottery. Why should I waste my precious time going to cheap lotteries, when I can be getting sun tans?

"Honey! It's time to wake up! You know what today is, don't you?" she shrieked again, opening the curtains and giving me an unnecessary blast of sunshine.

I sigh, "Yeah mom, I know! But like, can you like, seriously just like, let me get my clothes on first?"

I was wearing sweatpants for goodness sake! I couldn't be seen like this! Not even my own mother sees me in my pajamas; it would be embarrassing to be seen at my worst. Everyone in this whole District knows how sacred my body is! Girls see me and they faint, guys see me and they beg for my secrets! I would never tell them a single thing…what could I say? Sorry for not being me?

I shove my mom out the door and slam it shut, preparing my Reaping outfit. I dress to impress; I mean, you never really know when an agent will spot you! I've seriously been trying to get a good photo shoot done, but everyone I've went to didn't even know how to make me look good-only _I_ can do that.

One guy even doused me in glitter! What the hell? I do not like glitter, and I especially do not appreciate making a fool out of myself for the sake of a nitwit.

I brush my curly, amber hair out of my eyes and go to the bathroom which is connected to my room. I quickly rush to the mirror and check my face.

_No acne. Check. No scars. Check. No unibrow. Check. No scratche-WHAT!_

There is a small scratch on my left cheek, near my mouth. I cannot have this! Some would say I'm overreacting, but I take good care of my hygiene and body. Any imperfection on me is an immediate no-no.

The scar is barely visible, but I really don't care. I quickly jump into my jewel encrusted shower and apply several face creams and body washes.

_What should I smell like today…hmmmm…ah! _

I apply some peach scented shampoo and conditioner in my hair. These are especially made to make my hair glossy and silky-I mean, it already is, but going a little overboard doesn't hurt. I finish my shower and take out my dozen cologne bottles.

I apply each and every one of them, and I do so in a specific order. First comes the unscented one, made for the purpose of making me as shiny and healthy looking as possible. Then comes the slight lavender scented one-and so forth. Each layer gets more scented. Eventually I'm smelling like a bouquet of flowers!

It's one of my most notable qualities. I take out my blow-dryer and send it through my silky hair, drying it nice and slowly. I love my blow-dryer…what would I do without it?

I put on my comfortable ripped jeans and expensive sparkle shoes. My shirt? I don't need one! I never wear a shirt, I walk around with my bare chest, showing off my toned muscles and fit abs. I use my bow-flex almost everyday; and even though I have no idea how to work the damn thing, I still pump iron! I put on a classy scarf over my bare chest and walk out the door. I make sure to put my portable mirror and fancy comb in my pockets before heading out the door.

I call for my mom, who is busy calling the mayor's wife for more of her "girl's nights out". My mother, like, is one of the best. She makes friends with everyone, and because of her, I get to go to huge and awesome parties at the mayor's house. Of course, I'm too busy chatting with everyone and giving them some of my headshots.

_Come on mom! Oh, forget it. I'm leaving early, then I can get some more time to show off in the Town Square. _

I walk out the door, but not before putting on my expensive sunglasses and grabbing a cinnamon roll bun. I open the door and primp walk through the neighborhood. What is that? Some people already checking me out? I show off my pearly, straight teeth and toss the Cinnamon bun to some girls heading to the Reaping, who are trying to hold in their giggles.

"Oh my god! It's Bo! Like, we love you so much, like, like…"

I cut the girls off with a wave of my manicured hand, and give them my cinnamon bun. They jump for joy and giggle some more. I give them my signature, charming smirk and primp across the street some more.

I hastily take out my personal mirror and check my face.

_What is this? Scratch still looks visible! I cannot have this! What if I get photographed or something?_

I open a small compartment in the mirror and apply some skin-tone blush to my cheeks. I also put some on some man-scara to compliment my steel-grey eyes.

_Ah, much better! _

I primp some more, occasionally flashing poses to some people who happen to pass me by on the street. Oh, I love being me. I really do. I come from a fairly rich family, and I live in a wonderful District, where I can make it even more wonderful with my handsomeness and charm! Like, what would this place do without me?

I make my way to the Town Square, where dozens of kids are already gathered for this so called Reaping. I walk over to get my…finger pricked. This has given me nightmares for some time now. Just the thought of some imbecile ruining my freshly manicured hands makes me shudder. What if I get blood on my scarf?

I begrudgingly wait in line as children stare at me with awe and wonder. I smirk again and flip my hair, making sure to give them a whiff of my peachy-ness. The grumpy woman calls me over to touch my hand with her ugly fingers. "Next!" she says in a hoarse and crabby voice.

_What is her problem? I hate negative people, ugh!_

She grabs my hand roughly…and pricks my finger with that…hideous device. "Hey, like, watch the nails woman!" I yell.

She gives me a confused expression and quickly puts my print down. I leave with a sour look on my face. I understand my face is too precious to be angry, but…I just can't handle the grossness of the situation!

I walk over to lesser children of stature and appearance, and spray myself with a small bottle of cologne, making sure to spray around me too…because it smells like filth!

Children fall to the ground, coughing and wheezing, some holding their throats. "Gah! I-have-asthma!" an ugly child yells.

"Christ, man! You smell fi-" another stupid kid tries to yell, but I think he gets suffocated and like, dies or something.

I stare at the cluster of fallen children around me, and shrug. I give a smirk to the Peacekeepers, almost positive that my teeth are sparkling.

By the time I'm done spraying, some weird lady has already hit the microphone. She's already called the girl up. It's some thin looking girl, looks like a dancer or something. She's got black hair and startling blue eyes, and she walks up there like she's done it a thousand times already. She's muttering to herself though, and when she's asked a question she gives a nonsensical answer which has no relation to the question. Like, what a weirdo.

Then, the boy is being called. "Bo Solo!" says the weird looking lady with clown-makeup.

I guess I won the lottery? I don't know what's going on, but I'm being led to the stage by these gross looking men. "Don't touch me! You're all hideous! Just…don't touch me with those disgusting gloves!" I yell.

_I don't know where those have been!_

I walk up there, replacing my grumpy face with a charming smile. I flash some poses while the camera's shoot me. I lay down on the ground and do a model pose but the stupid Peacekeepers get in the way.

"Like, get out of the way! You'll break the camera or something!"

I huff and walk up the stairs, still flexing and flipping my hair. I shake my…partner's hand and quickly grab it back. I take out my nail filer and assess the damage.

My partner taps me on the shoulder, "A late joy boosts the linear anthology…" she says and shrinks back to her spot.

I only give her a small smile in understanding. Poor girl is getting tongue tied…it happens a lot when I'm around. I can't help I'm so dazzling!

I pretty much just ignore everyone until I'm practically manhandled into the Justice Building by gross guards. I scowl at them and brush off my shoulder, mocking their nasty

selves.

* * *

The only one who visits me is my mom. I don't need friends, like, sure I'm very popular around here but seriously, I have no room in my life for lesser peoples. I'm honestly too busy perfecting my body and having photo shoots.

My mother hugs me and comforts me. I tell her I'm going to be fine, as long as she watches my cologne and all that, I won't be worried.

"Yes, honey I'll watch your cologne…and your blow dryer," she reassures me.

I smile and give her one last hug. "Mom, I'll join the…uh, what are they again?"

She laughs, "The Careers, honey."

"Oh, well I'll join them. It's like, not a problem," I give her another smirk before the Peacekeeper leads her out.

_I'm definitely going to win this, I just gotta join the Cars are whatever they're called. I am like, very popular, not to mention rich! I'm surprised everyone doesn't know about me!_

I'm escorted on the train by the same stupid guards and file my nails as I ride to the grand Capitol.

* * *

**Babby Instain's POV**

* * *

"What did you say?"

The words I hear every single morning…every single evening…and every single day of my life. I don't really understand it myself…but I guess it's just one of those imperfections. The flaws of being a human being…yeah, I'm not perfect.

Sure I can't talk normally, but why does everyone have to rub it in my face?

I want to tell the customer that he owes me $2.30, I really do. But even if I force myself to say that-it's impossible. I just can't say it. No, I don't stutter, or slur my words. I just….well, I can't word out my sentences correctly. My mom said it had to do with my crazy brain, and how everything that comes inside of it never comes out. Perhaps I have a photographic memory, but it's being corrupted by my imagination?

I sigh, and brush the strands of midnight hair back behind my ear. I take out my notepad and write down the total amount he owes me. The bearded man looks at me, appearing confused, so I just point to my mouth and give him a shrug.

He understands the point, and reaches for his fancy wallet. He takes his purchase and leaves-rather briskly might I add.

_Yeah, it's either my voice…or my crazy, blue eyes. _

Either one frightens the living daylights out of people. I look at the clock behind the counter and give an exhausted sigh. Finally! My shift is finally over!

I quickly take off my work uniform and almost throw it at the stool I was sitting on. I sweep the floor a few times for good measure, just in case my brother decides to come in and check on my work ethic.

I gasp and reach for my notepad, hastily grabbing it right before the manager door opens and my stupid brother walks out.

"Ahem! Where do you think your going, little girl?" he shouts at me in a patronizing manner, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to intimidate me.

I clench my teeth and scowl at him. He only chuckles and stares me down. I point to the clock on the wall.

"What was that? Perhaps you're mumbling," he says, shooting me a sadistic looking grin.

He knows how I feel about talking, and he gives me crap for it every day. Shouldn't family be supportive of each other? What the hell is his problem? I try to leave and this moron wastes my time. I can't run out the door either, he'll just speed walk over and block the door. And there's no getting past his giant frame.

He gestures an "I can't hear you" signal, and my blood boils. Damn him! I stomp my foot and look at the clock-already wasted 4 minutes! This is ridiculous!

He sees me attempt at trying to hide my anger, and makes his gesture more dramatic, smiling even more villainous. I can't take this!

"An existence rates the hand!" I shout, seething with barely controlled fury.

My brother falls down on the floor, howling with laughter. "That will seriously never get old! The funny thing about it? I get to hear you emit stupidity whenever I want!"

I stomp towards the door and slam it shut, still hearing his laughter from inside the shop. Screw him and his stupid store! I'm telling dad I'm going to quit!

I'm heading toward the house, when I realized in my anger that the Reapings will be starting in 20 minutes! How could my brother not remind me! I told that idiot to remind me!

I'm seething on the inside and mumble to myself, trying to gather my thoughts. Fortunately for me, I move like a dancer. And if I should ever so happen to stumble or drag my feet, I'll look good doing it. Not to mention, I live in District One, so I get all the advantages of living like a princess.

I'm not all that conceited, I mean, sure I take my life for granted, but I'm able to sympathize with Districts like 3 and 12. It's all polluted and grimy over there, and all the people are thin and mean looking. I huff to myself and continue to prance over to the Main Square of the District.

I'm called over by a familiar voice…

"Hey, Babby! Good morning to you!" I hear a boy laugh, but lucky for him, he's my best friend, and is allowed to mock me.

Wesley walks over and hits me on the arm playfully. I give him a mock scowl and write down what occurred at the shop: Boring day, and walked out an angry mess.

Wesley laughs, "Your dumb brother again?"

I nod and roll my eyes as we walk past the gilded fountain and through dozens of children. I always enjoyed watching the Games. Not because of the violence, but because of the cool Arenas they always dish out. Plus, the mutts are creative, and I've always said that I wanted to be Head Gamemaker, just so I can express my imagination freely.

Lately however, Wesley begs to differ. He says that the Games has been, rather strange lately. First, there's that 3 year old winner, then there's the year everyone was required to sing and dance throughout the Arena as if it was a grand production, and then there was even the time when President Poobah himself entered the games!

Wesley thinks the President is a complete nut job-but I can empathize with the President's creativity. Sure, the obvious bugged Reapings and ridiculous Mutts are a stretch, but that's the advantages of being president. Anything you say goes!

I can only wonder what the catch to this year's games are….

I grin, "A mummy imposes a consequent dilemma!" I say happily, while almost literally skipping as I weave through the stupid little children.

Wesley looks at me, raises an eyebrow but continues to walk along side me. That's what friends are for! They stick by you to the end!

We reach the large stage just as the Mayor begins his dumb speech. I kind of blanked out during the whole "finger pricked ordeal" but I did yell out my thoughts a lot. Perhaps it's just my excitement…I mean, I'm from District One. I probably won't get in, but if I do…I'm coming from District One and District One means I get automatic VIP with the Careers. Heck, I might even become the leader! This excites me! If I'm in the Careers, that means…automatic win right?

_Yes…I will win because I will be in the Careers! I'm going to volunteer…to show everyone that girls can kick ass…to show everyone that I am the princess I should be! To show everyone that actions speak louder than words!_

I almost miss the girl's name as the stupid looking escort announces it into the microphone, "Babby Instain! Do we have a Babby Instain?"

First of all, she pronounces it wrong, second of all…she looks completely stupid…third of all, she talks completely stupid. Fourth of all…WAIT WHAT?

I almost couldn't believe it…I was chosen?

I laugh aloud to myself; I don't even notice as the other girls in my area look at me with disdain. I really don't care right now; all I truly care about is what the Arena will look like. The tributes will die at the hands of the Careers, so it will be a breeze to get through to the end. I'll just kill the last person by stabbing them in the back or something, it's really not difficult. It's just the Arena-oh and the Mutts.

I'm so distracted that I don't notice being pushed by several Peacekeepers out of the crowd. I don't like the way they handle me, so I shrug them off angrily. I strive to look confident and strong as I walk up the steps.

I looked at the large screen, watching myself as I walked. Ok, I gotta admit, I looked pretty confident. I smiled at my victory.

The weird looking escort must have seen my smile, because she asks me a question.

"Isn't it exciting? Any thing you want to say to your District before you depart?"

I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face, and the excitement bubbles within me. Who cares if I don't know how to talk right? I'm gonna win!

I almost shout into the microphone I was so happy, "The chunk despairs!"

I ignore the snorts from the audience and gracefully walk to stand in my spot near the escort, who although appearing confused, seems to have enjoyed my enthusiasm.

I watch as the boy, Bo Solo, struggles with some Peacekeepers as he walks down the aisle. He's literally flaunting his entire physique at the cameras, posing like he's at a photo shoot or something.

_What the hell is his problem?_

He even lies down on the ground and poses! Who does he think he is? A model? He isn't even wearing a shirt! Although…his abs are impressive, he doesn't need to be such a show-off.

He struggles some more with the Peacekeepers, flashing a few scowls, but as quickly as they came, they left. He made sure to bestow his pearly whites upon the cameras, flexing and pivoting around the stage, ignoring the escort's stupid remarks.

I shake Bo's hand, but I guess he's nervous or something and quickly snatches it away…oh wait, never mind. Now he's filing his nails…

_What am I thinking? If I'm going to introduce myself, I better do it now. I don't like the guy, but it's either now or never!_

He flashes some more smiles toward the other camera, so I tap him on the shoulder. He turns to me, almost annoyed.

"A late joy boosts the linear anthology!" I loudly whisper and give him a smile, before moving back to my spot.

He looks at me, and for a split second he looks at me strangely, but quickly fixes a heartwarming smile on his face, as if he feels guilty or sorry for something.

_What a weirdo! _

* * *

As I sit in the Justice Building, I take note of the fancy couch and decorations inside.

_Wow, special treatment! _

I lay across the couch, smelling the fresh roses and taking in the calming atmosphere.

Wesley didn't end up visiting me, when I went to go ask the Peacekeeper standing outside the door, he only said something about some boys near the eighteen year old group collapsing.

_Huh. Must've been the anxiety? _

I shrug and await my least…favorite visitors.

My parents visit me inside…while my brother only laughs as I attempt to speak to them without my notepad.

_Asshole! The least he can do is feel bad for me. At least shed a tear? _

I yell at him, tired of his ridiculous antics. "The misprint reads outside the creep!"

And, he ends up laughing harder.

_More like tears of laughter. _

I inhale sharply, trying to control my anger. I aboard the train, happy that I'm away from my brother for at least a little while. I am coming home after all.

I'll prove it to him; I'll come home a winner! Let's see who'll be the one laughing now! I feel another grin spread across my face, and I look outside the train window.

_I shall prove to my District once and for all to take me seriously! I shall win! _


	3. District Two Reapings

**Chapter III**

"**District Two Reapings"**

* * *

**Gabriel West's POV**

* * *

"One! … Two! … Three! Come on, let's go! You can do it! Use those muscles!" yelled my trainer.

I was on my third set, and I'm hoping to finish the training with a grand fifth rep finale. I struggled to raise the bar past my sweat drenched chin; I was lifting four plates today after all. Four damn plates, and I refuse to give my crowd a piss poor show. I usually never fail to do so, but today could be my final day here. I want to go out with a bang.

_Come on! You got this man! You're the most talented and muscular guy in this entire district, these kids got nothing! Absolutely nothing! _

"Come on Gabe, don't disappoint me damn it! One more, give me one more rep! Come on boy, move it!"

I raised the bar with some effort and prepared to do my final rep. The crowd surrounding my bench is very distracting, and despite my satisfaction with their envy, I needed to focus in order to get this last lift.

"Coach…tell these bastards to…get the hell outta here!" I yelled, struggling to keep my breathing under control.

"Alright, alright! Move on out, give the kid some space! Go back to lifting, you pansies! Come on, come on!" shouted Coach Denver, red-faced and obviously just as annoyed as I was.

That's the thing about my trainer, he's just as aggressive, confident, and enthusiastic as I am, the only difference being our physique. He's obviously much older and stronger than I, but in a few years, I could see myself surpassing him. It isn't really a competition though, he's my inspiration-and he's been training me in preparation for the Games ever since I was 2 years old.

"You got this boy! Just one last lift, show these kids who the strongest man in this entire district is!" he shouted encouragingly, clapping his hands like thunder.

I slowly but surely raised the bar once more, barely a few hairs above my nose. Nevertheless, my goal was achieved. I had gone out with a bang.

Coach Denver helped me with the bar and I jumped up with my natural enthusiasm. "I did it! I am the strongest man in this entire district! WOOOO!"

The Coach threw down his clipboard and double fist pounded me, both of us flaunting our physique at all the other Career wannabes in the gym. "I thought you couldn't do it kid! But you showed me! I guess I better dye the ol' beard pink now, huh?"

I laughed and jumped for joy, throwing my fist into the air. I spotted a hilariously smaller boy staring at me with awe, mouth fastened into a big "O".

"Dude, holy crap! You just lifted 350 lbs!" the mop-haired kid yelled.

"I know! Aren't I awesome?! Get out of the way, nub-cake!" I shoved him out of the way, sending him flying into a high speeding treadmill.

I smile confidently, brushing my hand through my curly, coffee-colored hair. My trainer fetched me some 50 lb dumbbells, and tells me to work it all the way through the district.

"I think you've trained enough my boy! And now, it all comes down to today," he declared in a proud manner.

I do squats as I walk out the gym, leaving my second home and walking towards the Reapings. To exclaim my victory, I periodically gave a loud "WOO!"

It's one of my best qualities. In order to succeed, you must…pump tons of iron…and be me! I can't help it, I really can't. Every opportunity I get to show off my skills and physique, I will do so. If someone asked me to do 200 push-ups, then I'd do so on the spot, and do 50 more just because.

_I'm a winner. I will not accept defeat, and I will forever show everyone how great I am! _

Coach Denver and I passed everyone in a confident and enthusiastic manner, only puffing out our chests a few centimeters. We're so muscular, we barely even have to act any more masculine.

"Yo! Gabe, wait up man. You volunteering for the Games this year?" a less attractive friend of mine sped along the road, out of breath by the time he caught up with me.

"Hah! What a silly question-of course I am! I've never felt better in my life…and today, man I just feel the energy pumping. Here, take my dumbbells, and keep them as a reminder of thy greatness!"

I almost literally throw the dumbbells at the boy, expecting him to be athletically able enough to catch them. I was terribly wrong. He only caught one of them, and the weight of the instrument sent him careening toward the ground.

"Watch your strength, Gabe! You almost killed that boy!" Coach Denver yelled at me with feigned discouragement.

I shrugged off his comment, "Ah well, more training I suppose."

We both did lunges through the street, only stopping to jog in place or take a breather. Nearly all the children watched us, some with bemused expressions, and some with literal awe. I was flattered, I really was. I knew I was a badass, but this is just a whole new level. I'm at a point where every time I walk, people kiss the ground before me. They throw roses upon my feet, and they compliment my physique and beg of me to grant my perfect body to them-if only a little.

OK, so that isn't entirely true. But once I win the Games, people _will _worship me. Once I win, I can afford all those expensive protein shakes and…perhaps even a Shake Weight.

I drool of the future, and I almost lose count in my lunges because I'm so preoccupied with winning. Coach Denver blows his whistle from time to time, clearing all the stupid little kids from my path. They should know by now who I am, he shouldn't have to do that crap. I demand respect!

I grunt as I grab the arm of one of the small children, "Hey! Get outta my way! And tell your friends to do the same if they know what's good for em'!"

The kid gulps and I almost feel sorry as I push him to the ground and scowl at everyone to give warning. While I am now pleased with the now clear road ahead of me, my coach handles the situation rather differently.

"Damn it Gabe, don't waste your energy on these losers! That's what the whistle is for!" Coach Denver yells, once again blowing on that signature silver whistle he always has around his neck.

I see the almost prepared Reaping stage looming in the distance, dozens of men garbed in white uniforms scouting and surveying the army of children here, there, and everywhere.

However, before we can make any more progress forward, I've got the strangest feeling. I stop moving and slowly turn my head towards the buildings lined along the side of the road. As if by miracle, I see my second favorite place in the world standing before me.

"Gabriel, what the hell are you staring at? We've got to get moving! You know I don't like having to pause the stopwatch!" Denver yells back at me, whistle in his mouth, muffling his shouts.

He seems to misunderstand my solemn expression but quickly realizes the situation as he follows my gaze towards the almighty Hick's Sporting Goods.

The whistle drops out of his mouth, and a grin spreads across his bearded face. He chuckles roughly, "Yes, once more Gabe. Once more!"

We giddily walk through the Sporting Equipment shop and already we are given special treatment. Dozens upon dozens of my athletic achievements and trophies line the walls of this shop, not one other person in this entire district comes close to my record. I am the best in the District!

_I'm here for another reason, though. I've got a score to settle. _

I happily walk to the counter, setting my eyes upon the bastard that is Dick. Dick sees me and already his eyebrows are furrowed, teeth clenched and hands fidgeting at his side. I've only ever seen this man a few times, but if the legends are true, Dick has never been seen outside of that counter.

Not only that, but legend has it that Dick is undefeated at arm-wrestling. Apparently, he's faced everyone, even Coach. Obviously, Coach wants vengeance. Coach never loses, especially to a puny man named Dick. However, anyone who faces Dick must never reveal his secret to success. He's unbeatable for a reason, but few care to share. I've asked Coach countless times, but even he won't tell me. It will, in his words, "break the vow".

It's no secret that Dick has been jealous of my achievements, and wants to defeat me…at something. I can only guess he wants to beat me at his own game. Arm Wrestling.

Once he does that, Dick will be awarded the most important District 2 achievement of them all: The Awesome Award.

I crave this trophy-I drool over this trophy. Coach says that if I can win that trophy before I ever get Reaped, then he will attribute me with, "The Best Career Ever" medal. Of course, I do want that medal. But most of all, I want the Awesome Award. None of my other trophies will mean anything, they are just petty wins-easy victories. I didn't even have to try…but the Awesome Award…that is an entirely new level of greatness.

Dick wants it too. And despite his pathetic life as a cashier, he is the obstacle that I must smash through in order for fate to get me Reaped. And, I must get Reaped. I must.

I slam my hands on the counter, staring Dick right in the face, all the intensity and anger in my eyes attempting to burn right through his pathetic heart.

"Dick, I do believe we have…something to settle?"

Dick doesn't look fazed in the least bit, his hands don't even make a move to defend himself, they're hidden behind the damn counter as always. Strangely enough, Dick always uses his left arm, and _only_ his left arm to work the register. I nor anyone else has probably ever seen his right arm in action…or even in general.

_I can only wonder about the rat bastard. _

Dick glares equally sharp daggers at me, "Yes, I do believe we have to…settle some things. Once and for all," Dick says through his clenched teeth.

Coach gives a hearty laugh and clenches my shoulders, massaging them in preparation for the showdown. He pats me on the back and glares at Dick.

"Alright boys, it's time to settle this. Gabe, show this bastard what you've got!"

I grin, and crack my neck and my knuckles. I jump in place and stretch my arms, my eyes never leaving the man behind the counter. "Coach, you've got nothing to worry about. This guy is going down!"

Coach hastily beckons me, "Remember boy, if you can't win this, there's no chance in hell you're going to win that medal, not to mention the Games!"

I nod and Coach pops some teeth guards in my mouth, just in case Dick tries anything funny. Once again, I don't know what this bastard's secret is, so caution is key.

Dick doesn't even bother stretching, but leans forward onto the counter using his chest. What the hell? Where's his arms, he's not even ready for this!

Coach takes the opportunity to blow his whistle and shout out the door to everybody in the street. "Hey people, Dick's got a challenger, and a fine one at that!"

I see everyone out the window staring at the bearded man with robotic expressions, some even frightened at the man, as they walk towards the Reaping stage.

A very agitated and annoyed grimace appears on the Coach's face. His face turns tomato red again and he throws down his whistle and grabs a megaphone from a rack.

"FORGET THE STUPID REAPINGS YOU MORONS! ARM WRESTLING MATCH, DICK VS GABRIEL!"

As soon as Coach says this a swarm of kids smash through the Hick's Sporting Good's door. Careers are making their way nearest to Dick and myself. They push all the kids away and the leader of the group comes forth from his pack. He pushes around all the strewn merchandise away with his feet and picks a smaller child off his feet and slams him into the Jock Strap aisle with little effort.

The tall Career boy steps to face us and crosses his arms, a serious look plastered on his stony face.

_Shit, now I really have to win! _

I slam my right arm on the counter, muscles flexing with a cocky grin on my face directed at my opponent. "Let's do this, Dick!"

Dick's countenance can only be regarded as mischievous…and I do not like this look. I quickly turn my head and see some children chuckling, especially the tall Career leader, who sneers at me. It's almost as if everyone here is in on an inside joke! What the hell?

I see Coach passing out fliers and glancing over at me with an…almost concerned expression.

Alright, now I'm pissed! What the hell is everyone staring at? And why are these stupid kids laughing? Especially, why does Coach look worried about _me? _When have I ever failed him?

I huff and turn towards Dick, my eyes fall down to the counter and my heart almost skips a beat. Sitting right before my right arm, is the biggest, and most muscular arm I've ever seen. It's ten times bigger than _my_ arm, hell not even, it's 100 times bigger! His elbow barely even fits on the table!

I glance at his left arm and see a puny and bony looking arm, nothing compared to the hulk-like right arm before me. "What the hell is this?! Why is his right arm freakin' colossal?!"

Grins of the audience turn into full blown laughs and I make little effort to appear confident and determined. It all comes naturally. This bastard has no chance, I couldn't care less if this guy has raptor feet, I will not be intimidated by a rat bastard named Dick!

"Heh, nice arm, loser! I-I don't care about your arm!" I say with utmost confidence; it's one of my best qualities.

Dick doesn't seem fazed-yet again. A random Peacekeeper comes in to referee or something, which I find ridiculous, but whatever.

"Alright! You two ready? Elbows on the counter please…thanks! Alright, ready? Annnnnnddddd, go!"

I prepare to destroy his arm despite the size…because I'm just that awesome. But as soon as he says "go", my arm slams on the counter with such force that it causes a crack to appear in the glass.

What?! That's-that's impossible…no, improbable! I cannot lose! I bring my elbow up and almost yell my excuse out.

"I-I wasn't ready! I wasn't ready, alright! Let's do this one more time…just one more!"

Dick smirks at me and brings his massive arm on the table once more, cracking his fingers with ease.

I scowl at him and prepare to destroy him…but this time, I mean it! The referee yells "go" again and our arms struggle against each other. I manage to last much longer than last time but my arm still comes down again, causing a bigger crack of the counter glass.

"Gah! I wasn't ready, damn it! I wasn't ready! Again!" I say angrily and prepare for another round.

Some more laughter erupts from the "Career" kids and I tell them to shut up. Once again, our arms battle against each other. Dick's arm smashes mine down with little struggle.

"Alrighty! And the winner is-" I cut off the referee with a swift kick to the face and he goes flying into the wall.

Coach rubs my shoulders again with a towel and hands me some Gatorade in a bottle. I squirt some of the drink in my mouth and gargle some of it, spitting it at my opponent.

Dick angrily wipes it off his face and prepares for another round. I walk over, focused and intense. I will not lose this round. I will win, damn it! I will win!

We arm wrestle once more, but I'm prepared this time. In an act of ultimate deception, I take out some gold bond powder from my back pocket and throw it over the audience, blinding everyone with smoke. I flash Dick an evil smirk and use both my arms to bring his massive one down.

Damn, I can barely get this damn hulk arm down with both of my own! Dick's arm is still raised, and is barely being pulled down by either of my arms and body weight. However, I notice the broken glass of the counter, and take the opportunity to spit in Dick's face again.

I got him right between the eyes, and he's pissed again, but that's just the distraction I needed. I kick the counter glass from below and the entire counter shatters, sending the register and all the items on top and within, including Dick's hulk-like arm, cascading to the ground. I use my body weight to bring his arm to the glass drenched floor, and then the smoke clears, literally.

All the crowd sees is my arm up on top of his hulk-arm, while I sit and yawn for dramatic effect. The crowd is awe-stricken, and they cheer! Coach Denver blows his whistle and announces the winner.

"And here we have it! The winner of the Arm Wrestling match, and the most Awesome guy in all of District 2, Gabe!"

I jump for joy and stomp on Dick's massive arm, making him yelp in pain.

_Now I get my award, and my medal! Hahaha! My wish has come true, I have beaten Dick! I am awesome, as well as the Best Career ever! Hahaha! _

I hear the familiar and loud tapping of a microphone in the distance and realize that I still have to go to the Reapings.

"Holy shizz, Gabe! Get your ass over there! It's Reaping time! I'll give you the medal later!" Coach Denver shouts and shoos me out the Sporting Goods store.

I haul ass to the stage and get my finger pricked, not even wincing at the pain. I'm too awesome for that now!

I jog over to my age group and see all the children running out of the Sporting Goods shop. All the Peacekeepers are confused, some even scratching their heads but they don't bother asking. However, I realize that the children are also running from something…the way their faces look, and the way they're looking behind them at the shop…

I take a closer look at the Shop and hear monstrous growls and yells emitting from the shop. I see windows shattering as children are thrown out. I do hear a familiar voice from within. I think I know who it may be, but I can't tell.

"Hulk smash! Hulk smash! Hulk smash!" is all I hear from the store. I only shrug.

I jog in place to get my mind-set ready just in case I get Reaped. I see a rather…large escort with a fancy white suit and poofy hair talking with an annoying voice.

"Ahem! Alright kiddies, are you all excited for this year's Games?" the large man asks, scanning the crowd with his creepy, rainbow colored, beady eyes.

I swear I almost hear damn crickets! Come on, get this crap going. I do arm stretches in my spot and see kids admiring my physique again.

"I said are you all excited?! Answer the question! Answer it!" the fat man yells again and throws his sparkly microphone at a kid in the front row. His now pink face fuming at the dullness of the audience.

The mayor does a face palm and glances at his watch in impatience. I hear a few groans from the audience. This is just ridiculous!

I see a baseball that just happened to roll my way and chuck it at the fat escort, hitting him square in the forehead. Curveball! Sucker!

The escort falls through the stage and several peacekeepers try to fan him out of his unconsciousness.

The Mayor walks over to the glass bowl, fed up with this nonsense just as everyone else is. He quickly shoves his hand in the bowl and messily takes out a more than one name, dropping some name slips on the ground. He realizes he has two names in his hand and lazily drops one.

"Calm yourselves down now. Calm yourselves. Let's see what we've got here….uhhh, what the hell does this name say? Can someone read this?"

The audience groans in impatience. Some kids near me even sit down they're so bored. Bunch of wimps in my opinion. I crack my neck and sigh deeply, awaiting the obnoxiously slow Mayor, who probably doesn't even know anyone's names in this District, let alone knowing how to read them. The Mayor struggles with the name on the paper and actually has to walk all the way over past the hole in the stage and over to a Peacekeeper, beckoning him over to lend a hand with his reading difficulties.

There are several shouts from the age groups, some of which consist of, "I gotta take a piss", or "Get on with it!" I really don't understand how this guy can lead an entire District and barely even knows how to pronounce a name…which is probably mine anyway!

_Stupid man. _

The sound of the microphone shrieks again and the crowd covers their ears in agony, but their faces show nothing but relief at the sound of the Mayor speaking again. "Alright, alright," huffs the Mayor, tucking the boy's name in his suit pocket and patting it down with his meaty hand. "Gay-briel West! Do we have a Gay-briel West in the audience?"

_Yes, as a matter of fact we do!_

I literally jump in the air for joy, accidentally upper-cutting some kid in my age group. This causes everyone in the vicinity to desperately move out the way, lest they feel my wrath!

I jog down the aisle, taking off my shirt and revealing my white wife-beater, which is tight on my abs and chest, complimenting my physique and beautiful athletic body. I raise my fist in the air as I jog to the stage, frequently shouting "Woo!" at everyone watching me. Dozens of cameras are flashing me, but I don't even care about the media, all I care about right now is that rush of adrenaline pumping through my veins! I can already see myself winning these Games!

Just before I hit the steps, a loud shout echoes through the unusually quiet crowd, "I volunteer! I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

As soon as those words circulate through my brain and echo through my body about 5 times in a single second, I freeze as my foot touches the first step. I angrily turn my head to look at the bastard who just stole my moment.

The Mayor gasps, "What's this? A volunteer? Well-uh, alright! What, uh-"

I snarl at the Mayor, jumping onto the stage and skipping the rest of the steps as I grab the Mayor's shirt collar and hold him up several inches off the ground. "Don't you dare ask him his name! I will not be replaced by a weakling! Do you understand me?!"

The Mayor gulps and nods, dropping the microphone onto the stage with a "thump", causing everyone in the crowd to widen their eyes in surprise. I set the Mayor down and stare off into the crowd, looking for the idiot who dared just volunteer. I see a smaller boy with red hair and freckles skipping to the stage in glee, trying to flaunt his own physique with his pathetic excuse for a wife-beater.

As soon as the ginger bastard hit's the stage I rear back one foot and punch the kid in the face full force, sending him flying down the steps. The stupid kid doesn't appear fazed and heads right back up the steps, even with a black eye. I growl at the kid in anger and throw him over my shoulders and send him careening into the hole in the stage on top of the fat escort. I spit in the hole for good measure and wipe my hands clean of the ginger filth.

_Who does that kid think he is?! I am Gabriel West! I am the greatest Career ever! _

I clench my teeth and flex my muscles, prepared for any other kid who wants to challenge me. The Mayor's eyes are nearly popping out, and he has to shake his head to even get back to the bowls, "Uh, okay. Let's uh, just get back to the Reapings shall we? Yes! The Reapings indeed!"

The Mayor, for whatever reason, shoves his hand in the girl's bowl full speed and actually breaks the damn bowl in half, sending all the names onto the floor.

_What the hell is wrong with this District?! _

The crowd bursts into fits of laughter as the Mayor tries to shake off the pain of his hand, whining and stomping around.

_This is ridiculous! All the girl's names are on the floor!_

I've had enough of this. I huff and stomp over to the stupid Mayor, "Just give me the damn microphone! Give it to me," I say with irritation.

I impatiently grab a name off the ground and utter the name into the microphone, "Sophia Carlson! Sophia! Carlson! Got that? Good! Hurry up, Sophia!"

I've seriously just about had it with today. The audience is in chaos, and Peacekeepers are already throwing tear gas at several age sections trying to calm everyone down. I think I even heard gun-fire. I'm clenching my fists now, trying to scan the dysfunctional crowd for any sign of this Sophia girl.

Out of the smoke and chaos comes out Ms. Carlson. At first glance I'm already gawking at my partner. I really couldn't have asked for anyone better; when you put awesome with awesome, you get an unstoppable wrecking force. I've never seen the girl before in the gym, but from the looks of her, she looks like she's been working out…and a lot. If I wasn't so awesome, I would have actually been scared of her.

She's tall, and well over the average height for a girl, and pretty damn athletic. I've only seen so many girls in this district who could potentially prove a threat to me or anyone else in the Games, and Sophia looks like she fits that "deadly" description. She's also pretty hot; with curly blonde hair in a ponytail and attractive features; I'm actually already trying to tighten my muscles so they look more defined when she stands up close.

As Sophia walks down the aisle, I check her out from afar, and she's definitely a 7 or 8. Nothing really comes close to 9 or 10, that's kind of reserved for someone _I know_ is in my skill level. She's got no obvious physical flaws, but I can't help but notice how the chick takes short steps when she walks. What, she doesn't know how to walk?

As soon as Sophia goes up the steps, she trips and falls…and so does my hotness meter. I don't fancy for clumsy girls.

The crowd pauses their chaotic antics to laugh at the fallen girl while the Mayor rushes over to help her up. Sophia climbs to her feet again and brushes herself off as she takes to the steps again. She has a disgruntled expression set on her face, and when she goes to stand near me she falls on her ass again!

I have my hand on my face in embarrassment as the crowd bursts into laughter again. The Mayor helps her to her feet again but she refuses this time, "No, don't help me! Just go stand over there!"

Sophia huffs and goes to shake my hand. Even though the girl can hardly stay on her feet, I still try to show off. Even up close, her beauty never falters. Plus, she's almost my height, about 5'10''.

"Hey, don't worry baby, I'll keep you on your feet during the Games," I say as I run my hand through my hair.

For some reason, the girl can't take a hint, and looks at me with disgust. "Yeah, whatever."

I immediately drop her hand, "You better watch that mouth, I'm the most awesome person in this entire district!"

This time, the girl smirks and walks back to her spot, glaring with bemusement at the audience. I glower at the girl and storm off to where the Mayor stands, snatching the microphone out of his chubby hands. "I just want to say to you people, that I deserve respect when I'm up on this stage…got that? This goes for you too, Sophia! I am the most awesome man in this whole damn country! This whole…damn…country!"

I don't get to finish my rant because my stupid partner grabs the microphone out of my hands with greater strength than I would have imagined. But her ability to firmly grasp it in her hand has me in tears as she drops the thing on the floor and it cracks.

The Mayor throws his hands into the air and shouts at her, "Great! Look what you've caused!"

The Mayor gives the signal to end the Reapings without a proper farewell or closing speech and orders Peacekeepers to wrestle us off the stage. Sophia has to be dragged off because she loses her footing near the hole and one of her feet falls through. I don't like to be manhandled, so I show the bastards who's boss.

As soon as they grab my arms I twist out and push a Peacekeeper into the hole, sending him flying with a scream that amuses me. I kick the other Peacekeeper in the shin and punch him in the face, knocking him out cold. I laugh as the crowd gets even more chaotic, now they're throwing crap at the stage. This is just hilarious.

I laugh so much that I completely forget about the other Peacekeepers, and before I know it, I'm being thrown into the Justice Building.

* * *

I don't bother trying to fight any more Peacekeepers, it's wasting my energy. Instead, I just relax on the couch in the Justice Building. My arms are draped over my head as I try to snooze for the next 15 minutes in here. I'm pretty sure I won't be getting any visitors except the Coach. My parents are always working and I'm an only child; not like I want to be seen around my mom or anything, I'm just way too cool for that these days.

The sound of silence is interrupted by the crash of the oak door, Coach walking in with a hearty laugh, clapping loudly as he sits down upon the opposite couch. "You put on a show out there my boy! That was the greatest thing I've ever seen in years!"

I laugh wearily, sitting up and sighing as the Coach digs around in his fanny pack for something.

"I tried, Coach. I just can't believe nobody respects my greatness around here! Who do they think won all those medals back at the sports shop? Who do they think is the most awesome man in the District is?"

Coach is still digging around in the pack, hastily searching for something…probably my token. "Yes, yes Gabe. There's a lot of narrow minded people in this damned district nowadays. They don't know true greatness when they see it…but I'm telling you, once you win, they'll be all over you".

I smirk to myself as Coach says this, because he's right. He's absolutely right; once I win the Games, I will earn the greatest award there is to get. Not only will I be heralded and worshipped throughout District Two, but I will be a _Victor. _I will go in the record books…I will be a legend!

Coach ceases his digging and scratches his head, appearing to be conflicted with something, then huffs and goes digging in the pack again.

I eye the pack with concern, there's obviously something I forgot about as well, but I can't put a name on it.

_Didn't I win something today? Dang, I don't even remember. What the hell was it? A…wait! Coach was supposed to give me my "Best Career Ever" medal! _

I almost leap up off the couch at the thought of this, "Coach! You were-"

Coach shushes me with a wave of his left hand as he continues looking in his fanny pack, his forehead crinkled in extreme concentration.

I frown and cross my arms, clearly not happy with being ignored. I earned my medal, and I want it now!

I give a loud "ahem" sound but the Coach doesn't seem to notice as he starts throwing items out of his fanny pack now.

"Alrighty…now where did I…should be in here…" the Coach mumbles to himself, still throwing a vast array of odd items out of his fanny pack.

I inwardly sigh and tap my foot impatiently, looking at the fancy clock that's hanging on the wall near the entrance door.

I try to get his attention again but he's too busy throwing crap everywhere. I actually have to get up and shake him on the shoulder just to get his damn attention.

_I want my medal damn it! _

Coach looks up at me with a scowl, "What?"

I try to quell my impatience, "Yeah, uh, Coach? Where's my medal you were supposed to give me?"

Coach has his mouth open in surprise, and he hesitates before answering. I don't like the look of this…

"Well, you know, Gabe," Coach says as he puts a firm hand on my shoulder. He coughs into his hand once and continues as he pulls me back into my seat, "Sometimes, I uh, can't always…Well, you see. Surely there are…_other _things you may want besides a…medal, right?"

I feel anger starting to bubble in my core and I have to clench my teeth to suppress any of it, "What…what are you saying Coach? You saying you lied to me?"

The Coach shakes his head and gives me a sheepish laugh, "Lied? Bah, what is that nonsense? I didn't lie to my favorite trainee in the world! Hah! 'Lied', what kind of garbage is that?"

I glare at the Coach, my entire body as still as stone. The Coach clears his throat and his gaze flickers over to the fancy clock near the door, "Ah! Would you look at the time, I best be leaving now. We've only got about…what? Five minutes?"

Coach maneuvers around the Couch and promptly takes his leave, much to my…dismay. "Coach! Where's my token?"

Coach turns around slowly with his hand on the door and sighs to himself, "Look, Gabe. You're a great kid, and I wish you the best out there." Coach throws me a small, pink flamingo and he walks out, leaving me to drown myself in my own anger.

I examine the plastic flamingo with discontent, and I make a "pfft" sound as I throw the damn thing against the wall.

_Great, now I have no token. Damn Coach and his false promises. _

I trudge over to the fancy, velvet couch and flop down on it again, and manage to sleep for about 5 more minutes before a Peacekeeper rudely wakes me up and sends me onto the Capitol train.

As the train speeds away from the station, the only thing on my mind is the fact that I, Gabriel West, am going to win these ultimate Games. I can imagine it now, all the other puny wimps from the rest of the Districts, they got nothing on me!

* * *

**Sophia Carlson's POV**

* * *

"Get up. Sophia…Come on, get up."

My safety within the snug and silky expanse of the cocoon of sheets is being cut short, and dreams of wishes and hopes are shattered when my eyes open to one of my younger brothers.

I rub my eyes and groan as more light sheathes in through the cracks of the window blinds, "Can't I just…sleep for a couple more minutes? At least?"

Justin, my 9 year old sibling, bites his lip in contemplation and struggles with himself to answer. He looks back into the doorway and glances back at me with obvious worry, "I don't know, Sophia. Dad said he'd wake you up last…and we're all up already…So…"

Justin is interrupted by the sound of thunderous footsteps into my room, accompanied by several loud taps and bangs on the wall of room.

_Oh great, now I have to get up. _

Stephen, my oldest sibling, stomps in my room, smiling deviously as he throws my covers off and pulls me by the feet off the bed, "Time for the Reapings, twinkle-toes! Get up, get up, get up!"

"Hey! I get it, I get it! I'm up!"

Stephen laughs and ruffles the hair of Justin who is watching the struggle from the sidelines, "Justin, kick her a few times for me, will ya?"

Justin sheepishly nods and helps me off the bed before running back into the kitchen for breakfast. I stretch near my bed and prepare for hell; god of all the days to hate, I really hate today.

The Reapings is probably one of the worst days ever. Besides those gym and fighting tournaments that are always going on around here and their annoying celebrations, the Reapings are something I'd as soon forget.

But it's not just the Reapings in general that I despise, it's the fact that I have to walk into the Town Square and stumble around in the streets because I can't even walk right.

Don't confuse this with stupidity, because I know how to walk and I know where I'm headed. I just have to take baby-steps sometimes, especially on rough terrain where there's an 80% chance that I will fall and embarrass myself. I can't tell you how many times I _have _fallen in the past. I just know that I've done it all of my life, and it's something that's caused many of my friends to avoid me.

Being from a Career district is a great thing, and it's something that I try to honor and relish in while I can. It's just the fact that I was never exactly cared for 24/7 as a budding child, and my permanent clumsiness is probably a result of that. I can't really blame my parents for that, because, my mother is dead. And my dad can't really help that he has to work so much to support the family.

My dad tries to support me as best he can, and he always manages to squeeze in a few talks about life at the dinner table to my siblings and I. One thing my dad wants for us, is to become warriors like our mother. My mother came from a strong family, and she was related to many Games victors. When she died of Mountain Fever, my dad kind of lost his sense of humor and immaturity. He's been working ever since, but he's always made it an effort to inspire us to become Peacekeepers like him, or gain a powerful high-status job so people won't make a joke of the Carlsons.

And it has worked, and my dad's seen that. He's proud of how we're turning out, and he'll be especially proud when he learns of our goals to become Careers or victors of the Games. If one of us becomes a Victor, we'll have all the power we need in this District. Everyone will respect our family, and everyone will respect my father. And, hopefully, everyone will respect me.

And ever since the day mom died, I've tried to honor his wishes. I've trained at the gym as long as I can remember in effort to strengthen my tense and delicate muscles, and I've encouraged the same with Justin and the rest of my siblings. Stephen is the second "dad", and we all have to respect him and his wishes as well, and I have to admit, as much as I don't like how he treats me, he still cares about us.

I pad over to the bathroom, with support of the wall hooks and ledges, which were recently implemented to help me out with my "clumsy" problem as Stephen had told me. I turn on the faucet and wash my face and hands before getting ready to bathe. Physically, I'm going to admit, I'm a rare breed. My mom was a strong woman, inside and out, and she refused to give up with her fatal sickness until her dying day. My father, being quite a handsome man, gave us all the good looks while my mom gave us our strength and attitude.

I'm well over 5'10'', and for a girl, that's pretty crazy. I love showing up all the boys at my school…and sure, they never thought a small girl like me could win in 3rd grade. But look at me now! I'm a tough girl…and even despite my clumsiness, I still have what it takes to make it big. I'm a born Career, just like my mother wanted me to be.

I quickly take a shower and fix myself up. I have to look my best for the Reapings. I don't put on anything too fancy. Just something to make a bit of an impression on others. I put on classy dark jeans and a long sleeve shirt. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and only put a few dabs of makeup on my face. My skin is actually rather healthy for a girl of my age. It's all thanks to my brother and father, and the rigorous training they put me through for this event.

Notice the clothing which covers most of my skin? Yeah, I kind of have to wear a lot of layers. This is not because I'm self-conscious, it's because of my chronic clumsiness. I wasn't going to be caught dead walking around with a walker or supporter like an old hag. What kind of Career would that be?

The only other solution for my problem was to wear thick clothing to avoid the bruises and scratches, and also implementing ledges and hooks around the house for me to grab on to. And also, keeping everything around the house nice and tidy. It's not just my feet that stumble, it's also my hands. It's not like I can't walk entirely. I don't fall that much, it's more me being clumsy with everything in general that gets people going. To be honest, I'm really not allowed in places like the Justice House or the museums here.

Heck, I don't even think I'm allowed to go near the dumbbells or weight machines at the gyms. My father and family understands my plight. And I'm sure mother would too. It's just…not everyone sees things as light-hearted as they do. People in Two are stricter, and people here are more hardened to the environment. They wouldn't want someone like me to hold a gun or protect this country. I've heard my father being told this first-hand. It does make me sad sometimes, but I'm positive and confident enough that I know I can still represent my family in the Games one day.

Being in the Games is more for my family than anything. I know I have the potential. I've trained with the little things I was able to train with, and I'm pretty damn good. But, it's just…I'm just simply too clumsy.

_What's the point in hiding it anymore? I'm just too damn clumsy. And that's all it falls down to. _

But that doesn't mean I shouldn't be taken seriously! I'm a feared girl either way! I'm a natural born Career! Stephen is proof of this; just look at how hard he works to keep me on my feet! He's trained me and so has my family in the ways they can, and I can tell you now it has worked to my advantage.

I shuffle out of my bedroom and notice that my brothers have already left. There is a note on the kitchen table, "_LEFT FOR REAPINGS. FRUIT ON THE TABLE. MEET US THERE. DON'T RUN TOO QUICK…TWINKLE-TOES." _

I angrily ball up the paper and throw it at the wall, earning myself a paper cut in the process. I don't even know how I got it! See what I mean? Everything I touch ends in disaster.

I grab the banana from the table and walk out the door. It's a nice day outside; perfect for a Reaping Day. It's always nicer around this time of year. It's my favorite time of year, to be exact. I believe it was in the summer that I first learned about the Games and realized it was what I wanted to do one day. It wasn't a big goal, but as I trained with my brother, I learned that being a part of this family meant being strong; it's what my mother would have wanted.

I try to jog around the corner but I end up falling again, and some stupid bratty kids laugh at me. I give them an angry look and decide to give them a taste of their own medicine.

"Hey! There a problem?"

One of the stupid kids has his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter but I can obviously still here it. They don't answer my question, so I go along with my plan. I peel my banana and drop the fruit on the ground while I throw the peel at their feet.

One of the kids looks down and laughs even harder, "I don't get it. Is this supposed to hurt me?"

I snarl and lunge at the trio but trip absent mindedly over the peel, and more laughter ensues.

"Alright! Go ahead and laugh, you brats! Just wait until I win these Games! You will respect me, and you will envy me!"

I pick myself up and inwardly groan in frustration at now having to baby step my way over to the damn Reapings. I slowly pass the Sporting Goods shop which I frequent but there appears to be some sort of ruckus going on inside, because the windows are broken and there are people fallen outside, as if they've been thrown through the glass.

_Looks like there was a fight. _

Not my problem; all I have to worry about is getting to these Reapings without being made fun of. I don't really care what anything thinks of me, but when it comes to what people think of the Carlsons…that's a different story. Whether I like it or not, I'm a born warrior. If I don't look like I'm made for the arena, then nobody will respect my family.

I cautiously make my way over to my age group, careful not to bump into anyone or hang on to anyone I don't know. I'm not too sure where my brothers are, but I'm sure they won't get picked. Justin is only 10 years old, and my middle brother is too well liked in the District to be participating in the Games. Everybody loves him and his gentle nature.

_But me? Yeah, I definitely have a chance. _

It's not like I _don't _want to compete in the Games, but it's just the way things have been going for the past 30 years that worries me. My father told me that when he was younger, the Games were much more serious and competitive than they are nowadays. He told me that the Games used to be filled with bloodthirsty, and savage children who trained intensely and fought intensely. It was a show of epic proportions every year, and the Arenas were spectacular to behold.

The Games did not have any special catch, and life was rather simple according to him. Everyone trained, and everyone wanted to compete. Even if you died, your name would be in the record books, because every fighter in those Arenas were deadly, and every fight lasted awhile before it ended. Mutts were much less prevalent, and so were environmental factors, which made for a more fair system in the competition.

But then…Poobah came. A man with a mysterious past, and literally no trace of his childhood or ideologies on a silver platter for the world to see. Poobah seemed to arise out of thin air; one day it was President Hawkins, and then, Poobah. Usually the elections of a new president are the next biggest thing besides the Games, but when Poobah was elected, according to father, _no one saw it coming. _

And for the first few years, Poobah, despite the ridiculous name, lived up to the expectations as previous presidents had done. He was simply just a President, and nobody thought much of it. The Games went on as normal and the people in Panem were content. But then…something changed. 25 years ago, about the time father met mother, Poobah changed his tactics. Instead of becoming the same and relatively dull man that other presidents in the past have done, Poobah began to reveal future plans for the Games.

Soon after, the Games would become stranger and stranger every year following. It ranged from the Games where the only weapons Tributes had were little red and white balls to summon creatures to fight for them; to the recent Games where Tributes were running around naked in minus degree temperature while flying, fire-breathing, monkey mutts struck them from above.

_I just want to fight like the Career I am…I don't want to fight like a moron with other morons. President Poobah's plans are scaring me…_

The fat, stupid escort for this year catches my eye and I have to stifle a chuckle at the idiot. He's skipping around the stage like a ballerina, even though he's fat and pink. He looks like a pig.

Then, I think someone from the audience throws a ball at him or something because he actually falls through the stage.

_What the heck is going on here? _

I play with the rubber band in my hair and adjust my ponytail as more chaos ensues throughout the crowd. I thought I heard the boy's name being called, but it's so loud that I can't even tell who is saying what.

I peer through the mass of kids and at the now dysfunctional stage. I see a muscular boy yelling at the Mayor, who had to take over for the collapsed escort. When is the girl's name going to be called?

"Sophia Carlson!"

_YES! _

What a coincidence! Out of all those names, mine just had to be called! This…this is brilliant! Now I can bring fame to my family, and now my brother and father can take me seriously! Now I can prove to the world that I'm a natural born Career! I'm going classy this year, and I will bring back the intensity and true fight that the Games have lacked in so long.

I stumble through the aisles and shove my way through all the laughing and noisy crowd. For some reason, there's smoke everywhere, and I think it might be some sort of gas the Peacekeepers tried to dispel to restore order…but it didn't work, as everyone just got more insane.

I take slow, cautious steps to the stage, as I don't want to embarrass myself on camera. If I'm going to be tough, I want everyone to see it already. My right foot is already on the bottom step, and I slowly but confidently strut up the steps, flashing a smirk to the cameras.

I don't even notice the piece of clipped wood that juts out the edge of the top step, and I stumble onto my knees.

_DAMN IT! _

I brush myself off and briskly walk over to the spot near my partner, but I trip over my feet again and land on my butt. The whole audience laughs at me! Do they not realize that I'm a Career-that I'm going to be the one trying to fight for them?!

The Mayor tries to lend me a hand but honestly, that's even worse than falling! He's just trying to make me look weak. "No, don't help me! Just go stand over there!"

I shake my stupid, over muscled, jockey partner's hand but he assumes it's some sort of secret flirt or something and he takes things further.

"Hey, don't worry baby, I'll keep you on your feet during the Games," he says, trying to act all sexy or something.

_Oh, please. I've seen hotter guys in the Capitol than this chump. I'm not here to meet guys…I can get plenty of those when I win anyway. _

I shrug off his poor attempts to hit on me, "Yeah, whatever."

Apparently, this guy doesn't like to be rejected, because he's all red in the face now. It's actually making me laugh.

"You better watch that mouth, I'm the most awesome person in this entire district!"

I snort at his anger and shuffle back to my spot, trying to make up for my embarrassing moments by giving in to the cheers of the crowd.

"I just want to say to you people, that I deserve respect when I'm up on this stage…got that? This goes for you too, Sophia! I am the most awesome man in this whole damn country! This whole…damn…country!"

_Alright, I'm getting tired of this moron. He's worse than my older brother. _

I snatch the microphone from Gabriel's hands with ease, and he glowers at me with badly hidden distaste. But of course, my hands never knew how to grasp onto things and the stupid thing shatters to pieces on the ground.

The Mayor looks fed up with everything now, "Great! Look what you've caused!"

He signals to the Peacekeepers and now me and my partner are getting dragged off the stage. I will not be embarrassed even more! This is not how I wanted my Reapings to go! How am I supposed to be taken seriously if I'm getting dragged.

I shove an officer away, "Get off me! I can walk down by myself, thank you."

But I loose my footing near the hole and I fall to one knee. The Peacekeepers laugh along with the crowd and grab me by my shoulders, dragging me limply like a sack…embarrassing me and my lineage. This is not what mother would have wanted.

As soon as I'm set down again, I'm being placed in a wheelchair…wait, what?! A wheelchair?

The burly Peacekeepers buckles me in the chair and rolls me past the Justice Building. I'm now infuriated, and I don't bother to hide it.

"OK, what the hell are you doing? Aren't I supposed to get my goodbyes? Hey! Are you listening to me!"

The rough faced man looks down at me, "Your father requested that you be placed in a wheelchair to prevent any more injury."

_Prevent injury?! _

I can't even speak as I'm placed on the train. I'm so pissed about this whole ordeal and how it turned out. It's as if I were destined to be twinkle toes! This had to have been set up by my brother…it had to have been!

All I know is this: I will be coming back from that Arena-scratch that, _walking _back from that Arena; not as twinkle-toes, but as a Carlson!


End file.
